


The Whole Man

by nom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: blindfold_spn, Geek Love, Kink Shaming, M/M, Nerdiness, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nom/pseuds/nom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: "Sam gets off to Dean talking like a geek. Dean doesn't even have to touch him, just rattle off quotes and facts from Star Trek, Vonnegut, etc and Sam's spent."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole Man

**Author's Note:**

> A not-actually-kinkshaming story.

Somehow, in the year that Sam was gone, Dean picked up some... new and interesting bits of pop culture.

It took a while after Sam got his soul back for them to reconnect physically. But once they did, it was good. Better than the sex had been in years, even.

The new thing though?

After one of their more spectacularly painful hunts -- stupid fucking vampires, he hopes they never have to hunt them again, and what's with not just the vampires but the stupid fucking rotten stairs trying to kill them too? -- Dean mutters, "What is it with this crap? You'd think everyone would know by now that you can't just put a fucking asterisk next to our names!"

Sam does a double-take. But then Dean says, "As soon as you've finished stitching me up we're going to that bar and getting drunk. I don't fucking _care_ about mixing painkillers and whiskey. If you're too goddamn worried about it you can drive, Samantha." So Sam decides it was just another weird fluke, he must have misheard.

-

But then it happens again. And again.

And the effects -- it takes Dean a while to notice, at first. But then he does.

Of course it's at the most fucking inconvenient time possible -- during a hunt, right as they're killing the evil things of the week.

This time it's some kind of family of mid-sized tentacle-monsters from a swamp -- or rather, The East Creek Sanctuary Wetlands Preserve -- that's been taking out birders come to catch a glimpse of the rare trilling something-or-other jay. Or finch, whatever, ornithology was never one of Sam's interests.

They're killing tentacle-monsters with blessed steel, and Dean is gleefully machete-ing his way through them when he says, "Hey Sammy, it's like we're chopping up mini-Cthulhus -- is this _awesome_ or what?"

Sam is instantly blindingly hard.

Dean yells, " _Focus_ , Sam, you can't let 'em get their suckers that close to your face, man!" as he takes out the momma (or maybe it's the uncle or the dad) tentacle monster that made a grab for Sam while he was... distracted.

Dean gives him a look, but then it's back to killing the evil calamari and Sam hopes his brother's forgotten his lapse.

-

Except two hunts later, they're taking out a nest of harpuppies.

Small dogs should not have wings -- especially not wings that are more leathery than feathery -- and should not be _actually, truly_ evil, Sam thinks; regular small yappy dogs are evil enough just by being annoying.

Dean is waving his sage-wrapped oakwood torch at the harpuppies and then he sort of puffs himself up and in this incredibly bad voice-imitation starts repeating, _"EXTERMINATE. EXTERMINATE, EXTERMINATE."_

Sam almost comes in his pants.

It's humiliating, is what it is. And fuck, Dean has definitely caught on, because when they're back at the motel -- evil feathered dogs with beaks all crispy-fried and gone -- he turns to Sam and says, "Something you wanna tell me about, Sam?"

Sam hides in the shower. For an hour.

-

That of course means that Dean takes it as a challenge.

He either takes to studying in secret while Sam is sleeping, or he somehow managed to accumulate some fucking vein of knowledge -- on the specific kind of cultural references that Sam doesn't even like to admit to himself he gets hot and bothered over -- while Sam was gone or wasn't looking in the past.

Dean whispers, "Whaddaya think, Sammy? Was Kirk boning Bones, or was that whole T'hy'la thing with Spock the real deal? They were kinda like soulmates too, you know. D'you like watching the scenes where they mindmeld?" in his ear late at night and Sam is writhing on the bed, begging.

In the car, while they're driving, he says, "Hey, Sarah Jane Smith, MILF or what?" and Sam has to press a hand to his dick so he won't embarrass himself. Again.

-

The worst is when Dean calls him that time.

Sam's at the motel, doing research, and Dean's waiting by the damned pizza place that doesn't deliver -- "But it's the _best_ pizza in this stupid state, Sammy, dontcha remember? I'll just go get one. Don't bitchface at me, it'll be so good," he'd whined.

Their call goes from, "I'm bored, Sam. Fucking pizza better be as good as I remember," to "Don't be ridiculous, that’s not how you deal with sprites," to "Hey, I know what you'd like, you little pervert. Now I know you think you're Han, but I've gotta tell you, I'm pretty sure you're Luke -- Han's too cool to be you. But I bet what really gets you off is the idea of me in that gold bikini, huh?" to "Oh yeah, you like that, I can hear you. Remember to breathe there, young Jedi. Yeah, you want me to be your feisty love slave? That bikini gets you so hot, I can tell. You like to think of me all prettied up for you, rescuing me from some fate worse than death and being all grateful? While we kill shit with _lightsabers_ and _blaster cannons_ , yeah, Sam, that's it, come for me."

When Dean gets back to the motel room with the tepid pizza, he does that stupid winking thing and keeps smirking as he looks Sam over.

Sam's taken a shower and put on all clean clothes -- kind of stupid, he'll probably just get beer or tomato sauce on them -- but it made him feel less weird.

"So, am I awesome or what, geek-boy? Pizza and making you give it up just by talking about the shit you perv on!" Dean says, leering at Sam as he drops the pizza and a six-pack on the table.

Sam hunches down a little at the table, uncomfortable.

"Dean," he says, looking at his brother's hands, unable to meet his eyes. "Could you, like, give it a break? I know you think it's funny that I... like those things -- and you're having a blast making fun of me for, you know, _normal_ kind of freaky tastes. But it's not really that cool for me, when you keep pushing my buttons and then fucking mocking me for it."

By the time Sam's gotten that out, Dean's gone entirely still.

"What? Hey, hey, no. _Sam_ \-- that's not it. I'm not making fun of you, not for real, I swear!" Dean says, crouching down by Sam's chair so Sam has to look at him.

"Getting you off is what I like. It's fucking awesome that I can get you hard or off that fast just by using some Sammy-flavored dirty talk I wouldn't have thought was the sexiest before. But no, jesus, don't get all freaked out on me here. You liking it, that _makes_ it hot. Okay? Besides, I wouldn't have read and watched that shit if I hadn't liked it too. Even if not as much as you, princess -- but it's all good. So stop freaking out about it, okay?" Dean says.

He looks and sounds pretty sincere, so Sam nods.

Dean stands up and squeezes his shoulder and says, "Alright, let's eat. And after we can watch _Empire_ and you can see exactly how much I get off on you liking it. But I'm warning you, no references to Jar Jar Binks during sex. _Ever!_ "

Sam knows he's red-faced as he grabs a piece of pizza, but they're both smiling.

The pizza _is_ good, even almost cold. And secretly, Dean really is kind of awesome.

 


End file.
